Recreate the Wounds
by sweetshepherdspie
Summary: The moment Carlisle decides to turn Edward into a vampire. CPOV


Elizabeth was dead.

I knew right away, because in the cramped, stuffy room, I could only hear one pulse. She lay on her side, facing Edward, not breathing. Her eyes stared off into space, seeing something far away.

I slowly crossed the room crouching between the two small beds and faced Elizabeth's still form. Carefully, I closed her eyes, saying a small prayer to the God that I knew existed for her safe passage to His protection. I drew in a slow breath and pivoted around to look upon Edward's face.

He was no longer moving. He was too weak. I could tell that these were going to be his last moments. Unless…

Unless I changed him.

I sat there, staring at him, churning over the idea in my mind. Could I do that to another person? Wouldn't this life be worse than simply dying here? I thought again on how much I craved another person who could really know me, know who I was behind my careful, false act everyone else knew.

Save him! I replayed over and over in my head Elizabeth's last words. …everything in your power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward.

Memories of the past centuries flowed in rapid succession through my mind. I remembered waking up down in the cellar, first realizing what I had become. I remembered the disgust that filled me, the hatred I held for my own existence. Why should I subject anyone else to that horrible feeling?

Indecision cut through me. But he wouldn't be alone. I would be there, guiding him and teaching him how to resist drinking from humans like a monster.

Something in me told me that this was the time to act. Something in my heart and soul told me that it was what I should do.

I stood, my decision made. There were things that I needed to do first, though. I had to get Elizabeth to the morgue first. Then I had to get Edward out of the hospital and to my home.

Guilt racked my conscience as I wheeled Elizabeth's stretcher to the morgue.

Was it really the right thing to do? Would he despise me for turning him into a monster? What if he refused to share in my vision of not drinking from humans? Then I would really have created a monster.

Contradicting thoughts swirled around in my head, but I knew that I had already chosen to do it.

I pushed open the doors at the end of the hallway I was in with the stretcher and turned the cot to the right.

"Dr. Winston," I called above the bedlam rising behind me. The elderly man, his thick grey beard looking haggard, rounded the corner and almost crashed me. He smiled sadly at seeing I only brought another corpse.

"They just don't stop coming, do they?" he sighed through his mask as he guided me through another set of doors.

When we entered this new room, the smell of death permeated the air—had I been human I would have gagged.

"You can leave her here." He gestured to a small opening between other stretchers. I carefully maneuvered the cot into the tight space and gave the old man a light pat on the back before leaving him.

When I got back to Edward, I saw that he was almost gone. Not even half an hour and he would be gone.

I picked up his weak frame in my arms after disconnecting various wires and tubes attached to him and swept through the halls. I started up the abandoned stairs, going as quickly as I could without using my "enhanced" abilities.

Soon I was on the top floor. This was the floor where the dead were carelessly dumped because there wasn't room for them anywhere else. Empathy washed through me at seeing the destruction caused by a simple virus. I knew that if others of my kind were to see this, they would use it as evidence to convince me that humans were weak, frail creatures not worth saving.

I looked down at the fading body in my arms. I was going to save one.

I climbed the open staircase to the roof of the hospital and raced over to the opposite edge. Without pause, I jumped quickly from roof to roof, moving too fast for human eyes to see. When I got to the street that my house was on, I jumped down into the alley behind it. I flew down past other dwellings, turning just as fast into the driveway behind my house.

I unlocked the door and closed and relocked it behind me. I decided to do it in my bedroom, and set Edward on the mattress.

As I looked down on his human face one last time, my boldness wavered. No, I thought, I was going to do this.

But how? I suddenly panicked, unsure of how to proceed. I couldn't be sure what exactly it was that caused my own change, so how was I going to do this and be sure of the outcome?

The only thing I could think of was to recreate the wounds I myself had received almost four hundred years ago.

With each slash and bite, my dead heart received its own blow. It couldn't have taken over a minute, but the time seemed much longer to me.

With that, I delivered the last bite—right in his neck. I tasted his blood, and even weak as it was, the searing pain rose in the back of my throat. I fought back, remembering my purpose. Remembering my vow to never drink from a human. I stumbled back and wiped the blood from my chin.

I knew that even in his state, he would feel the burning fire in his veins. It took only seconds for the screams to begin.

**Soo...likey-likey? I hope so. If so, tell me! And if not...then tell me too! I thrive on constructive criticism! (Key word: Constructive!) Tell me if you want more, because I was originally planning on stopping there, but now I don't know...**


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